


What's mine is yours to make your own

by Tita



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Fluff, Male Pregnancy, Married Couple, Mpreg, Non Famous, Smut, alternative universe, this is all just silly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tita/pseuds/Tita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is it? Are you okay?” Louis asks in response, both questions coming through in quick succession.<br/>“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay it’s just-” Harry breathes in, letting all the air out as he rushes through his next words. “I’m pregnant.”<br/>The statement is followed by silence, Harry gnawing on his lip as he waits for Louis to say something.<br/>“Holy shit! We’re gonna be parents?!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's mine is yours to make your own

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is completely mindless fluff that I felt like writing a few months back and have just now finished. It's all thanks to the ever understanding Cara and her patience (i don't know how she puts up with me really). Anyways, I just hope it makes someone smile and hey, it's the 31st so technically this is mpreg month still!  
> Disclaimer: Everything in this story is made up and I do not own one direction or its members.

Louis and Harry have been married for five and a half months when Harry starts to feel queasy.

His stomach has been acting up for several days, and all the home remedies have been uselessly brewed. He’s also popped some pills, but those just slide down his throat at a sluggish pace that makes him feel even worse and then come back up when he gets sick (which is worryingly often).

Harry doesn’t want to rush to the doctors, especially when Louis is out of town for a school trip at the moment, but he doesn’t think he can take much more. It’s the second night in a row that he’s woken up to empty his stomach in the porcelain bowl, and as he brushes his teeth he considers making a doctor’s appointment and just getting it over with.

As he gets into the covers, he briefly ponders asking his mother to come along. She’s the one that knows he’s been feeling down (since Harry didn’t want to worry Louis while he was away and powerless to do anything) and he knows she won’t text Louis and make a silly fuss.

Anne ends up agreeing to come with, and on Monday morning they’re heading off to the clinic, Harry leaning on the door to try to catch up on all the sleep he’s been missing. She periodically eyes him over to check he’s not about to spill his guts, and though slightly annoyed, Harry’s heart warms up at the caring gesture. He’s been feeling a bit low on love this week.

Once they arrive, they’re told they have to wait for a few minutes, and while they do Harry notices the other people littering about. There’s a small girl with a cast on her arm and an old man coughing up a storm on one side, and in comparison, Harry feels so healthy he hopes his appointment comes behind those two.

“Harry Styles,” calls the young doctor peeking through a generic brown door as Harry gets up, glances back at his mother to catch the reassuring smile she gives, and walks into the room.

“What seems to be the problem?” the doctor asks once Harry’s sat down.

“I’ve been sick for a few days, can’t really keep food or pills down,” he explains the best he can, his hand gestures adding nothing to the conversation but some familiarity. He isn’t very keen on how cold and white this place is.

“How would you describe your symptoms?” The doctor asks.

“Uh, nausea, vomiting and trouble sleeping.”

“Have you had anything out of the ordinary to eat or drink?”

“No.”

“How about diarrhea?”

Harry shakes his head energetically. “No, no.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you pregnant?”

It’s a question that shouldn’t shock Harry, but it does. He’s never even thought about the possibility, knows he and Louis always use protection and that the amount of male pregnancies is too small to really be present in his mind.

“No, I don’t think so,” he answers sincerely.

“Are you one hundred percent sure?”

Well, considering he hasn’t taken a test, no, but he doesn’t _think_ he’s pregnant. That would be just -- _almost_ impossible, he thinks, recalling that night they’d been a bit drunk and on their honeymoon.

“Not really.”

“Well then we’ll take a urine sample and test it just to check and eliminate the possibility, okay?” The doctor explains, smiling.

It takes Harry all of fifteen minutes to pee in the cup and hand it over to a nurse, his hand shaking perceptibly. It’s not that he’s adverse to the idea, it’s just that it’s so sudden and he’s alone and he really needs Louis here for this.

Anne stands up when he comes out to the reception area, and she hugs Harry before he can even speak.

“They took a urine sample because I might be pregnant and now I have to wait,” Harry mumbles into her coat, the hand that’s rubbing circles on his back stopping for a second.

“Pregnant?” Anne confirms.

“Yeah.”

The way Harry says it must be enough to give away at least half of what he feels, since Anne just nods and walks quietly next to Harry to the car. She doesn’t drive him home, though, goes straight for the place he’s grown up in and where she still lives and as soon as Harry notices he gives her a questioning look.

“I didn’t think you’d wanna wait alone,” she explains knowingly.

Harry loves her so much more for being perceptive.

That night they eat Harry’s favourite dish of homemade mince pies, and he goes to bed in his minuscule bed in his old room.

He tosses and turns for an hour before he takes out his phone and texts Louis.

_i love you a lot_

He falls asleep before he can wait for a reply.

*

“Harry, you’re pregnant.”

He’s just gotten the call a minute ago, and the words ring loud and clear through the speaker of his phone.

“What?” Harry exclaims, trying to shush the avalanche of thoughts that has sprung up with the statement. “Are you sure?” He asks.

The doctor laughs and replies.“Yes, the test showed high levels of hCG, indicating that you’re carrying a child.”

Harry feels like crying, like running to Louis and hugging him and screaming into thin air. Or as if he might faint under the mental weight of this new information. It’s still unclear.

His heart is beating erratically and his mouth opens and closes but no words come out.

Harry thinks this is what being in shock feels like.

He’s still in that confusing state as he hangs up and walks into his mother’s arms a minute later, tears flowing down his face.

Anne’s face falls when she notices, but she hugs him tight, an urgent undertone in her voice when she asks what’s wrong.

It takes Harry three calming (shuddery) breaths and a sniffle to be able to talk without tears making his words tangle unintelligibly.

“I’m -- uh,” he starts, voice trembling. “I’m pregnant, Mum.”

A silent beat goes by while Anne processes the thought, and then she breaks into a grin.

“That is great, _oh my god_ , my baby is gonna have a baby!” she squeals as she rushes to hug Harry, her voice going suspiciously high and wavery.

Harry lets out a watery laugh. “Yeah, I guess I will.”

The way his slightly dimmed voice contrasts with her excitement makes Anne pause.

“What’s wrong then, dear? Don’t you and Louis want to have a family together?”

“Yeah we do, it’s just,” Harry answers, voice tapering off as he gestures emptily with his hands and then slumps down in defeat. He looks up at Anne, eyes shiny with tears.

“He doesn’t have the job he wants yet, and the bakery is still in construction, and we’re just not in the place we want to be when we have kids.”

Anne’s smile turns less excited and more caring as she takes Harry’s hands in hers.

“Sometimes things happen when we wouldn’t have expected them to, and it’s fine. Fate has a weird way of working out, you’ll see,” she says calmly.

“Plus, you’ve always wanted this, sweetheart, and you’ll do such a good job with Lou helping you out.”

The thought of Louis with a child, let alone one that’s theirs, makes Harry smile.

“You think so?” he prompts, unsure.

“I _know_ so. And it’s not like I’m gonna skip out on it, oh no, Grandma Anne will be there.”

Chuckling, Harry thanks the heavens for giving him such a caring mother.

“You’re gonna have to yank the child off my hands first,” Harry defies, already in love with the idea of having a baby despite his fears.

“I wouldn't dare.”

Anne beams at Harry.

A realization dawns on him.

“I have to call Louis.” He announces, nerves spiking as he stands up.

Harry doesn’t like keeping secrets, even less massive ones like this, so the thought of waiting until Louis comes back in two days is unbearable. But so is the thought of Louis reacting badly, even if deep down he knows it won’t happen.

“He’ll be thrilled,” Anne reassures in response to his anxious expression.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll call him now.” Harry nods as he walks to his room and sits down on his bed, wiping away the remains of his tears.

He taps on Louis's name and puts the phone to his ear, foot tapping nervously as the rings come though.

“Harry!” Louis answers, clearly happy to be getting the call. It makes the knot on Harry’s stomach tighten since this could only get happier or worse depending on what comes next..

“Hey Lou.”

“How are you, babe?” Louis asks before he adds “I’m bored. Being out and about in a new place is not the same without you.”

It’s Louis's way of saying he misses Harry, he knows, and it creates a surge of warmth inside him, a river of goodness swimming through his chest and ending up in a soft smile on his face.

“I’m okay, missing you a lot,” Harry mumbles back while he rearranges himself. His hand ends up on his stomach as a subconscious reminder, and he clears his throat before speaking again.

“I actually have something important to tell you,” Harry says, stomach clenching in anticipation.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Louis asks in response, both questions coming through in quick succession. Worry is tangible in the way his voice rings shrilly, and Harry bites his lip.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay it’s just-” Harry breathes in, letting all the air out as he rushes through his next words. “I’m pregnant.”

The statement is followed by silence, Harry gnawing on his lip as he waits for Louis to say something.

“Lou?” He asks when it’s been almost half a minute, concern seeping in and making his voice waver.

“Really?” Louis asks, his voice giving away no emotion.

“Yeah, I got the doctor’s call this morning.” Harry answers quietly.

He hears a shaky exhale on the other end before a startlingly loud voice comes through.

“Holy shit! We’re gonna be parents?!”

It doesn’t seem like Louis is freaking out. Instead, he sounds kind of...excited?

“Parents, Harry! Oh _fuck_ I wish I was there,” Louis continues, and Harry slumps down on the bed, the blatant happiness in Louis's voice dissipating all of his nerves.

“Me too.” Harry laughs and continues, “My mum knows and she’s so happy, Lou, you should see her, already planning to hoard our baby.”

“Our baby,” Louis echoes fondly. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

“That’s typically what being pregnant means, yes.”

“Oh shut up, you,” Louis scolds before an idea must pop up.

“How many weeks are you? Are you showing? I mean you weren’t before I left but--”

“Louis.” Harry interrupts. “I don’t know yet, and no, I’m not showing,” he corrects fondly.

“Aw,” Louis pouts on the other end. Harry shakes his head. He loves his Louis too much.

“Though we’ve got an ultrasound appointment for next week when you’re back,” Harry offers, knowing Louis will perk up at that.

“Will we be able to see him?”

“Why _him_?” Harry complains.

“I don’t know, I feel like it’s a him.”

“Well, what if it’s not? She would feel sad,” Harry scolds.

They spend the rest of the conversation discussing if they want to know the sex or not, and Harry must fall asleep to the lull of Louis explaining why they should, since he wakes up in the middle of the night with his phone stuck to his face and a lingering trace of happiness filling his heart.

*

Louis comes back on Monday.

He drops his bags as soon as Harry opens the door, a grin taking up half of his face. Harry would’ve preferred to go to the airport to get him but Louis had insisted that there would be too many parents and fuzz and _spectators_ for the surely overly-sweet reunion.

It proves right when he steps closer, grabs the back of Harry’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. It lacks finesse and is too infused with longing,  but as they part both of them are grinning. Harry tries to pull away so that he can close the door but Louis refuses to let him go and brings their lips together again and again in short, sweet pecks.

Harry is giggling when Louis finally lets go, and he still is when he manages to close the door and usher Louis in. Both of them are looking at each other with such fondness, they almost don’t know what to do except gravitate closer and let their foreheads rest against each others, fully appreciating the fact that they’re together again.

“Hi,” Louis whispers, a smile teasing the edges of his mouth.

“Hey,” Harry says back while his hand traces the back of Louis's neck. His finger draws idle shapes and he knows Louis loves it when he does it.

“So.”

Harry looks into blue questioningly.

“You’re pregnant.”

A smile blooms in Harry’s face as he nods, taking in the way Louis's eyes twinkle with a new kind of sparkle.

“ _We’re_ pregnant,” Harry corrects with a grin, stealing a peck while Louis continues to look at Harry with that fond look that makes him blush.

Louis laughs. “Last time I checked, I didn’t have a baby inside me.”

Harry laughs too before nudging Louis softly. “Idiot.”

Louis still manages to fall over into the couch at Harry’s gesture (though Harry suspects he just wants to cuddle without saying so), making sure he lands first and Harry atop him.

“Is this how it is going to be from now?” Harry questions, not entirely adverse to the idea of Louis protecting them. _Them_. Oh god.

Louis glances down to Harry’s stomach before meeting his eyes. “It’s not like I’ll let my baby be hurt because my _other baby_ is an incurable klutz.”

“Hey,” Harry protests, drawing out the word as he gently swats Louis's arm. “Be nice, I’m gonna get all fat because of you in a few months.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, voice gone soft. “Won’t be fat, though, just carrying a baby.”

“You say that like it’s no big deal. A baby isn’t exactly small, you know.”

“It is, though, if you consider it. Small enough to cradle and snuggle into your chest.”

Images of Louis holding a baby, _their_ baby, flood Harry’s mind. He’s pretty sure his heart has given up and his tummy has turned into permanent mush due to the sheer adorableness of the thoughts. The excitement coursing through Harry’s veins sure does feel like a long term effect of being pregnant, though.

Since the baby is not due in many months, Harry cuddles Louis instead, burying his nose and breathing in the scent he’s missed the past few days. They lie there for a while, basking in the knowledge of the impending bundle of joy and the presence of each other.

*

The day of the appointment, Harry is woken up by an overly excited Louis rustling around on the bed. He groans and rolls over, trying to put his arm around Louis and still him so they can sleep for at least a few more hours. Not surprisingly, he’s unsuccessful.

“How can you want to sleep when we’re seeing our baby today, Harry?” Louis asks, shifting so he’s facing Harry now. “ _How?”_

“It’s not for another two hours that we need to get up, Lou,”  Harry begins, voice rusty from sleep.”And I don’t think it makes any difference.”

“It does,” Louis protests. Harry doesn’t need to open his eyes to know he is pouting.

Groaning, he rubs his hands over his face, sure Louis won’t let him fall back asleep now.

“Pregnant people should not be woken up early,” he remarks, as a joke more than anything.

Louis tones down with his fidgeting at that, stance deflating a little.

“I’m sorry.”

He sounds guilty, and Harry promptly goes about in fixing it, drawing Louis in for a soft kiss.

“You know I’m just kidding, Lou,” he says, smile slipping in because Louis is so damn caring it may just be the end of Harry.

“Yeah, but still.” Louis insists, burrowing further into the sheets (and Harry’s arms). “I should be more aware of stuff like this.”

Undeniable insecurity is laced with the statement, so Harry snuggles Louis in as close as he can and nuzzles his cheek into the warm familiarity that is Louis's neck.

“You’re doing perfect, and there is no one else I’d rather have with me during this time. No one else.”

Of course, Louis busts out a joke next to lighten up the mood. “Well I bet you wouldn’t! That’s kind of why you married me.”

Harry knows him all too well, so he allows the moment to slip by with a light laugh.

“Oh you don’t know, maybe I just wanted someone to cuddle with for life,” he jokes, tilting his head up to look at Louis.

Louis shoots him a look. “ _Please_ , like you aren’t in this for my booty.”

Harry pretends to be surprised and brings up his wrist, talking into it as if it were an intercom with a glint in his eye.“My real motives have been caught by the cute one, send reinforcements or I might have to let him take me,” he says, voice in mock solemnity.

“Too late,” Louis whispers before inching down and kissing Harry.

They put the remaining hours to good use.

*

After they’ve left the hospital and are on the way home, Louis seems to realize they haven’t told Jay about the pregnancy yet.

“We can give her a call as soon as we get home,” Harry suggests with a smile.

“No, no, I want to tell her in person!” Louis explains, mind clearly made up. “She always used to sit me down and explain she still loved me before she told me about her pregnancies, and it was pretty cool, that way.”

“Okay, then,” Harry nods, eyeing the way Louis's whole face lights up.

Harry thinks for a moment, calculating dates and appointments.

“We can go this Saturday, if you don’t have piles of work to do,” he offers.

Louis sits up, positively _beaming_. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

**

Not surprisingly, Jay takes the news with a few tears and a lot of hugs, asking them all sorts of questions with a grin on her face. Louis is quick to gush about everything so Harry just leans back and watches him talk, takes in the excitement palpable in his wild hand gestures and fast paced words. It’s all very emotional and by the end Harry may have shed some tears himself but it’s okay, he gets to blame it on the hormones.

They’re chilling on the couch now, Louis sitting down with Harry’s head in his lap and fingers carding through the thick strands. Jay’s off puttering about in the kitchen or so, and the silent ambience is like heaven for Harry’s city ears. It’s very domestic, Louis laughing about whatever is going on in the screen while Harry shuts his eyes and simply rests, and he loves it.

He vaguely thinks that this is exactly what he wants for the rest of his life; a warm house, Louis next to him and a family that, though not fully made yet, is all theirs. The thought makes a smile bloom on his face and Harry looks up in order to catch Louis’s gaze, holds it for a few seconds.

“How about Emily?” Louis asks then, the oh so comforting movement of his fingers over Harry’s scalp not halting.

“What?”

“Emily. For the baby, I mean,” Louis clarifies. Harry does not miss the way his face grows fond as the words flow out.

“It is,” Harry agrees, thinking absently that they don’t even know the sex yet, won’t know for at least one more month.

There’s suddenly the sound of the front door being opened and not even a second later a chorus of voices floods the previously silent house.

“Mum, Daisy forgot her lunch box today!” “It was an accident!” “Have we got any more of those animal crackers? I’m starving.”

None of them seem to notice either of them, but Louis certainly does, his head perking up and smile widening as he realizes his sisters are home from school. Harry gets up so that Louis can move with a grateful smile, speeding off to the kitchen while Harry follows at a more leisurely pace.

There’s a chorus of “Louis!” as Harry steps into the kitchen, his eyes falling on the ball of hugs that has formed astonishingly fast. It tugs at something inside of him and he feels himself smile as he nears the group of Tomlinsons and joins in.

The girls realize he’s there a second later and there’s a chorus of ‘Harry!” that makes him chuckle. Jay comes into the room with a fond smile and the hug begins to break up, the earlier complaints overpowering their presence.

When all the girls are settled down for tea, Lottie speaks up.

“Why are you guys here?”

Louis scoffs and pretends to be offended. “Why, can’t we be?”

Lottie rolls her eyes -- typical Tomlinson trait, thinks Harry-- and takes a bite off her toast. “Yeah but you haven’t come here since the wedding,” she says with her mouth full, crumbs falling as Jay sighs.

Harry thinks he hears Lottie mutter ‘ _haven't left the bedroom more like’_ which makes his cheeks heat up, but it’s too low for him to hear correctly (Or at least he hopes it is).

“Well, we came to tell you guys some news but if you are so mad about it we can just go,” Louis answers, playfully eyeing the door with fake interest. His twinkling eyes meet Harry’s and he walks around the table to stand next to him.

“Oh come on,” whines Charlotte then, her voice flanked by two “What news?” coming from the twins.

“Should we tell them?” asks Louis, leaning down so that his mouth lines up with Harry’s ear and he can wrap both his arms around him.

“Hmm,” Harry pretends to ponder, eyes meeting Louis’s and a small smile playing on his lips. “Only if they give us the last waffle.”

Louis chuckles and nods. “I like the way you think, Harold. We should get married.”

Giggling, Harry leans closer and whispers “We already have.”

Fake surprised, Louis inspects his wedding band. “Oh shit.”

Harry really can’t help laughing this time, shaking his head even though there's nothing he loves more than Louis being silly. He really hopes it’s something their baby gets too.

‘“Come on! We want the news!” Interrupts the chorus of girls, their tones evidence of how done they are with them playing around.

“Okay, so,” Louis starts, giving Harry a sly smile before rushing the rest of the sentence out. “We’re having a baby!”

There’s a silent second while the news sink in and nobody seems too sure how to react.

“But I thought only girls could have babies,” asks Daisy confusedly, her head tipped to the side and Phoebe nodding along behind her as if supporting her question.

Louis’s cheeks go pink but before he can say anything Harry decides to respond.

“Boys can too, it’s just less common,” he says with a smile.

“Oh,” Daisy adds, thinking it over before her face breaks out into a tiny grin. “Does that mean you will bring it here so we can play?”

“He or she, Dee, not _it_ ,” Louis corrects with laughter intertwined in his words. Harry has to admit her confusion _is_ adorable. “But yeah.”

It seems to be what breaks the tension for when Harry looks up then he sees the whole table smiling.

“Woo!” cheer the twins in unison while Charlotte and Lottie congratulate them, already making jokes about the baby being a mini footballer or clumsy toddler. Both ideas make Harry and Louis explode with happiness.

Then, Phoebe seems to get another question.

“Wait, are you pooping out the baby?”

There’s a round of laughter (and some awkward explaining a pink cheeked Louis does not enjoy -- seems like Harry will be the one giving their kid the sex talk, then).

*

One of the things Harry notices the most about being pregnant are the secondary effects. He gets nauseous during the mornings sometimes and eats twice as much fruit as he did before. His bad back gives him some more headaches as well, and his nipples have become hypersensitive, dark and perky at the smallest of brushes.

Of course, that’s the condition that Louis loves the most. Teasing Harry with soft brushes and feathery strokes at random times of the day, he always gets a pleased glint in his eye. And it’s not bad, not like Harry’s complaining at the teasing, but the thing is, he’s already very, _very_ horny and the constant touching does nothing to help him in that area.

It gets especially worse in the mornings, when Harry wakes up with morning wood and his nipples are sore from brushing against the sheets all night. Today, he feels the pangs of arousal before he’s even fully conscious, hips rutting against the sheets involuntarily as he twists and turns.

There’s white hot arousal building in the pit of his stomach, driving the last remnants of sleep away and beckoning delicious pleasure instead. Friction from the sheets against his cock feels amazing, but he gets the urge to wrap a hand around himself so he turns over, finding that the new position is much better and involves no belly squishing.

As he wraps a hand around himself, Harry can’t help but groan, feeling the much needed grip just where he needs it, tight and wonderful. He begins to stroke himself at a medium pace, slow enough that he can savour it but fast enough that it satisfies what his body is craving.

Eyes falling shut, Harry pictures Louis inside of him, rocking fast and deep as they chase their orgasms. He can see the piercing blue eyes perfectly in his mind, the picture a puzzle of wonderful memories all fueling the sped up strokes on his dick.

Harry knows he’s close, has his feet curling up and back arching, but then a foreign hand surprises him, making his eyes shoot open and hand stop. It’s Louis, who’s apparently woken up and is looking at him with a knowing look. His hand moves to bat Harry’s away, and he strokes Harry’s cock twice before stopping and forcing a whine out of Harry.

With pleading eyes, he tries to make him move, but Louis is already gone and crouched lower down the bed, his lips trailing hotly over the sensitive skin on Harry’s hip. Tan hands hold them down, and Harry gives a frustrated sigh as Louis moves slow as ever, knowing that no amount of fidgeting will make this go by faster and that though slow, it really does feel good.

When Louis gets to the small mound that is now Harry’s belly, stretched from holding a growing baby for already five months, he seems to slow down even more, laying down kisses even more gently.

Looking up, his eyes meet Harry’s and they both smile, Louis running a tender hand over the taut skin. “You’re getting so big, babe,” Louis says, lips brushing against Harry and provoking a small shiver that runs through him.

“You mean fat,” Harry chuckles as he rolls his eyes.

“Nope, I mean beautiful.”

The blush on Harry’s cheeks gets deeper at the comment, and in typical fashion Louis moves on after saying such a thing, mouth latching on to Harry’s collarbone and sucking hard. His teeth scrape the edge of what Harry can tell will be a mean love bite, and the need sparks up in Harry again.

“Please,” he pleads wiggling his hips in hopes of getting Louis to finally do something.

Harry being pregnant must be a good leverage point, since Louis surprisingly moves down and closer to Harry’s dick, which non-pregnant Harry would’ve had to work much harder for. His lips finally, _finally_ close over the head of Harry’s cock, and Harry is so close already it’s almost embarrassing.

Slowly, Louis sinks down as Harry lets out a strangled moan, hands flying to Louis’s hair in order to ground himself. When he begins bobbing his head Harry has to close his eyes, let the indescribable sensation flood through him as he gets nearer and nearer to coming. His hands tighten their grip on Louis, and he comes with a hoarse “Fuck”, muscles tensing while Louis keeps him in deep until he’s done.

Spent, Harry barely has the energy to push Louis off of his oversensitive dick, but when he does, Louis is staring up at him with the same dazy expression that Harry knows his own eyes are sporting. He looks drunk, which makes no sense.

“What are you so dopey about?” Harry enquires as he stretches out his hand and rubs circles on Louis’s shoulder.

“Nothing.”

Rolling his eyes-- Louis really has had an influence on him-- Harry nudges Louis. “Tell me.”

Louis sighs. “It’s just that your belly is really growing and it makes me think of our baby girl and how we’re going to be a real family soon. It’s silly.”

Touched, Harry tugs at Louis until he’s up and next to him again (with a boner of his own, but that can wait a little).

“It’s not, it’s lovely.”

It’s Louis’s turn to roll his eyes now, and he’s smirking before Harry can even say anything else.

“Does that mean I get to fuck you now?”

Harry takes an appalled breath, and Louis is laughing before he can even swat him.

“I’m just kidding babe, love you.”

*

Harry’s arm is burning, muscles stretched as far as they go, but there is still that pesky corner that resists to be reached. He gets on his tiptoes and tries again, balancing on the stool precariously as the brush paints an inch below where he needs it. _Damn it._

“Need help?” asks Liam, who apparently has finished his section of the nursery already. Stupid boys who don’t have a huge belly to inconvenience their painting.

“No, I can do it,” Harry assures him, wanting to do as much as all the other boys for this room. It’s _his_ baby who will sleep here and it makes it worth something to him.

“Harry don’t be stupid,” Louis scolds as he comes closer, voice loud and disapproving. “You can’t do these things, you’ll get hurt.”

Harry knows Louis is right, but he tries again, attempt as fruitless as before. “Fuck, come _on_ ,” he urges but nothing happens.

Defeatedly, he gets off the stool and passes the paintbrush over to Liam who ignores them as he gets to painting that stupid corner. Louis meets Harry’s eyes with a look that he’s been giving him a lot lately, one that says ‘it’s for your good and the baby’s’ but Harry is a bit tired of it.

“I just wanted to do the same as the rest,” he sulks as he looks around for someplace to sit. Louis brings him a spare stool and he takes it, letting his face hang.

He knows it’s silly and probably part of the hormones that have been driving him insane lately, but there’s disappointment blooming in his gut.

“Hey,” says Louis, hooking a finger below Harry’s chin and making their eyes meet. “It’s okay babe, I have something else for us to do.”

“Really?”

Louis nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But is secret, so follow me.”

Harry does, and they exit the nursery quietly, not wanting the other boys to come. Louis stops in front of a box Harry had not noticed before, lying huge and conspicuous in the middle of the living room.

“What’s this?” Harry wonders as he steps closer, notes the tightly sealed box with a familiar address printed on top.

“I asked our moms for our old toys a while back, thought you’d like to pass them on to the baby and uh, Niall held on to the box until we had the nursery set up,” Louis explains, eyes trained on the floor.

“Oh Lou,” Harry sighs as he steps closer to his boy, searches his eyes with his own and takes his lips in for a kiss. “That is so thoughtful.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Louis tries to brush off, but Harry won’t take it, uses the chance to kiss Louis deeply, _show_ him that it is something; something great and lovely and so damn nice of him.

As fate would have it, the boys walk in right then, to a Harry draped over Louis and kissing him senseless. They don’t notice until one of them speaks up.

“Oh I see how it is,” Zayn smirks. “Call us in to do the dirty work while you two shag.”

Harry jumps a little and parts, cheeks red but smile dopey. Louis simply put an arm around Harry and gives Zayn the bird.

“Just wanted to tell you guys that it’s done,” Liam says then, but he too has that cheeky touch to his attitude.

“Lets see it then,” Louis suggests as he walks, Harry in tow, into the nursery.

It’s beautiful. The walls are a freshly painted yellow colour, and in the places the guys have begun to tidy up, the light wood of the floor peeks out, matching harmoniously with the wooden accents on the frames of the windows. It’s just like Harry had pictured, and he feels moisture begin to build up in the corner of his eye, feels too much to hold it back.

“It’s perfect,” he declares as he meets the gaze of Niall first and then Zayn and Liam, trying to convey his thankfulness with it.

“Needs a few plush toys but I’ll get on that,” Niall comments and Harry knows that as soon as the baby is born, the room will overflow with them, Niall being totally unable to control himself. He’s okay with that.

“And comics,” Zayn adds, accepting a fist bump from Louis.

“And baby safety measures,” Liam says, worriedly, making them all look at him and laugh.

Harry feels warm, loved and happy as his favourite people laugh around him. Louis looks at him and Harry smiles, placing a hand on his belly and feeling their little girl kicking along. He can’t help but share her enthusiasm, look forward to all that is to come.

After all, this is only just the beginning.

“Okay now, who wants to get wasted on non alcoholic beer? It’s on the house,” Louis calls out, Niall groans and Harry grins.

“Count me in.”

 


End file.
